


Flesh Wound.

by SavoryScotsman



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Blood, Blood and Gore, Dismemberment, Emetophobia, Gore, Graphic Description, M/M, Necrophilia, Vomiting, Watersports, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-24
Updated: 2015-02-24
Packaged: 2018-03-14 21:24:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3426089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SavoryScotsman/pseuds/SavoryScotsman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The BLU Spy finds himself in a bit of a tight spot when he wakes up in a disused Crow's nest...</p><p>Warning: Contains death and scenes that may be disturbing to some audiences, proceed with caution.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flesh Wound.

The spy came around after what felt like hours of nothing, groggy but conscious, he lifted his head and looked around, analysing his surroundings. Reddish-brown wooden walls loomed at every side, stacked with big wooden crates covered in mouldy jars and shattered glass, and what looked like an old window covered in newspaper and tape that was partially hidden behind them. Opposite him, a rickety door left ajar, allowing a slither of light to sneak in. By the looks of the small room and the strident, stale smell the air, he was in a crow’s nest. One that apparently hadn’t been used for a while. 

The crate he’d been leant against dug uncomfortably into his back and he shifted, only now did it occur to him that the pinching on his wrists and ankles were because they’d been skilfully bound by rope, and the dry, dusty taste in his mouth was a makeshift fabric gag. The Spy took in whatever air he could and exhaled slowly to calm his thumping heartbeat before he scanned the room for anything he could possibly use to free himself. Noticing a splintered piece of wood jutting out from between two crates, the Frenchman struggled onto his knees and managed edge over and start rubbing the ropes around his wrist vigorously against the edge of it.  
Before he could meet the luxury of release, an eerie creak grabbed is attention and the door eased open. Stood in the frame was a tall, slim figure, eyes hidden behind an orange sheen. Slung over his shoulder, a brown blade with one jagged edge. He quickly recognized the onlooker as the RED Sniper, a man he was hardly unfamiliar with on the battlefield.  
Now, now he was apprehensive.

The Sniper stepped in, letting the door creak shut behind him, he seemed ignorant of the Spy’s presence as he dropped the kukiri to the side with a dull clatter, turning his back to his captive, he lazily shrugged off his jacket. The Spy glared intensely, but didn’t make a sound.

“Long day.” The gruff man mumbled, though probably to himself he still turned to face the Spy, looking at him for a moment before walking by into the shady corner and picking up one of the vile jars. Spy closed his eyes as he heard the lid being taken off, followed hastily by a foul, pungent stench that almost brought tears to his eyes. The sniper released a shallow groan and began to relieve himself into the container.  
Disgusted, but taking advantage of the Snipers distraction, Spy looked from the RED’s back to the tribalman's shiv lay carelessly by the door. His hands balled into fists and he ground his teeth against the gag, straining quietly, but the bindings held fast. “Thirsty?” the same gritty tone soaked in a thick Australian accent saw the Sniper stood, looking over his shoulder at the Spy, placing the piss filled jar onto the wooden crate, ignoring as its contents dribbled down the glass and onto his hand. He moved in front of the Spy and lowered himself to one knee, his face just inches from the Frenchman’s as he grabbed the side of the gag roughly and yanked it down out of Spy’s mouth, only to be greeted with a wad of spit to his cheek.  
Lifting his hand, the Sniper traced over the spot before drawing his arm back and lashing his palm across the Spies face without hesitation, “Wouldn’t do that mate.” He grunted,  
“You disgust me” The Spy hissed, “What kind of sick joke is this?”

The bushman didn’t answer, not that Spy had entirely expected an explanation, instead he reached up snatched the open jar off the crate, spilling its contents over the rim as he brought it under the Spy’s nose. Spy cringed in horror, turning his head away sharply, “What the he-“ He cut off, sentence broken when the Sniper grabbed his chin roughly and squeezed, forcing his s mouth open. Muffled sounds of revolt quickly ceased as the wet rim of the jar met the Spy’s lip and the RED tilted it up, pouring its contents into his mouth. The taste instantly made his stomach curdle and the Spy spluttered breathlessly, jerking forward as the Sniper let him go to wretch. A little fresh urine never killed anybody, but whatever had settled the bottom of that musky jar before instantly brought the sour taste of vomit into the Spy’s mouth which he quickly heaved over himself, he’d barely had time to finish when the Sniper hunched over him and grabbed the back of his mask this time, yanking it back so sharply that the Spy released a startled yelp, his assailant didn’t waste a second before pouring the rest of the jars contents straight down the BLU’s throat, before a second fountain of vomit pushed it straight back, the Spy choked and heaved, held still until Sniper finally allowed him to straighten up and the burning mix of piss, vomit and God knows what else erupted down the Spy’s front. His chest heaved as he fought to catch his breath,  
“You’re insane!” He cried, ramming his bound hands up into the Snipers chest, pushing him back and causing the empty jaw to clatter to the ground, for a moment the two sat in silence, Spy leant over forwards, huffing and hacking the gross remnant from his throat. With a heavy breath he looked up as the Sniper stood and took off his aviators, a smile on his face. 

“Thought ya might like somethin’ to wet yer’ whistle a bit.” He smirked, drawing his tongue across his almost unnaturally sharp teeth, “It won’t kill ya.” 

The Spy stared up at the man in disbelief as to what had just happened, his teeth clenched and thick ooze still dripping from his lips and soaking into the blue fabric of his balaclava, the scent alone made him want to churn again, 

“Why don’t you just kill me” He wheezed, 

“I will.” Sniper replied quite quickly, taking the Spy aback a bit. “Just not yet. Don’t tell me you’ve never had a bit o’ fun before stickin’ that toothpick of yours into someones back.”

“I’m a professional-“ Spy snarled, 

“So am I.”

“This is not a game!” 

“ Course it is.” Sniper turned and walked to the door, tenderly scooping up the handle of the Shiv before bringing it opposite his face and trailing a finger along the sharp, jagged edge as he turned back to the Spy. “This is how I get my thrill.” He slung the shiv over his shoulder and approached, abruptly lashing it down and straight into the Spy’s leg without a moments thought. The Spy’s eyes shot wide and he screamed, hovering his bound hands over the shiv handle, which the Sniper suddenly out with a thick squirt of blood. The open wound began to ooze and every rapid pulse sent an unbearable jolt of pain up the Spy’s leg, “Vous animaux!” He snapped, but his insufferable complaining only roused the Sniper further and he brought the shiv to his face, inhaling the heavy metallic scent of blood before his rough tongue slid like a snake from between his lips and ran along the blunt side of the blade,  
The look on Spy’s face was one few had seen, sheer terror clouded his eyes.  
“Pain don’t last long spook” Sniper grinned, “but if it’s that bad, I know a light anaesthetic”, as he spoke his hand wrapped itself into a fist,  
“Please!” Spy breathed, “Don’t-“

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Pain unlike any other roused the Spy’s consciousness and the dazed man opened his eyes, everything looked and sounded like he was under water, but that would have been too good to be true. Instead, he was still sitting in the rotting crow’s nest, just about able to make out the figure of the RED Sniper sitting on one of the crates. Shiv in one hand and a blood soaked cloth in the other. Something unrecognizable draped over the edge of the crate beside him and the Spy’s brow furrowed,  
“If I’d know how long you’d be sleepin I’d have taken my time” The Sniper muttered, not taking his eyes off of the shiv. Spy lifted his head slightly,  
“What…” he managed. Barely able to keep his head up the Spy glanced down at his hands. They weren’t tied anymore, but he could still feel a tight pressure around his legs. When his eyes trailed down, what he saw made him so lightheaded that he felt himself wretch a little again, the source of his agony was there… or, not there. The wounded leg was gone, severed messily at the knee which had a short piece of rope tied around it in a shabby attempt to stop the blood which continued to seep out onto the wooden floor. “What did you do…” He whined, tears rolling down his cheeks, “WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!”  
“What does it look like.” The disgruntled RED asked, glancing over with a questioning brow. He had a point, but not one that you’d want to hear in this situation. The Spy leant forward, shakily reaching out and peeling back a piece of fabric that’d stuck to the exposed muscle before hastily pulling his hands away with a sharp yelp. His body began to quiver uncontrollably and once again he hurled. After releasing what was left of his stomach content the Spy looked to the slightly open door and clenched his fist. The BLU suddenly launched himself forwards, screaming in pain as the tender wound scraped across the wooden floor, like a fox in a trap he scrambled towards his salvation, only for the Sniper to hop down from the crate, shiv still in hand, and stride over. He slammed his boot down onto the Spy’s remaining leg, “Goin’ somewhere?” he asked almost innocently over his prey’s lively cries. Now standing over the Spy, Sniper leant down and clutched his shoulder ,flipping the Frenchman onto his back and heavily sitting on his stomach. Before another snarky comment could leave the Aussie’s lips the Spy thrust up his hands and gripped his tormenters neck as tightly as he could. 

Sniper’s smirk fell and he seized the Spy’s wrist, “Wrong answer.” One swift motion, and the Shiv’s blade sliced into the Spy’s flesh, causing him to release Snipers throat instantly and clutch the bleeding wound, 

“Merde!” He wailed, “Shit, please! I –“

“I can’t understand ya’ mate” Sniper shouted over the Spy’s crying, “What?”

“Why are you doing this, what is the matter with you! Animal!  
”  
“We’ve already been through that mate, then I cut off yer leg remember?” The Sniper chuckled reached down to his unfastened belt, sliding it out of its loops and rolling it up before shoving the leather wad into the Spy’s mouth. He swiftly lifted the Shiv and stuck it point first right into the BLU’s opposing arm, it pushed effortlessly through his flesh and into the wooden floor beneath them, pinning him down, “There ya’ go. Can’t lose you now.” He smiled, hoisting himself up and walking around the Spy to his legs, “Now we can have some real fun.” His thumbs hooked into the waistband of his trousers and slid them down, freeing his already stiff cock and grasping it tightly with one blood soaked hand, lathering its length in the thick red liquid. “Ready?” he asked, the Spy tried to lift his head, shaking it desperately,

“Mmmph, mm –“ he protested, but the Sniper just slapped his hands together,

“Good.” He smiled, scooping his hands under Spy’s knee and bloody stump and rolling him back until he was supported only by his aching shoulders. Sniper hunched over and rested the Spy’s leg awkwardly over his shoulder before taking hold of the black belt around Spy’s waist and flicking it open. He rolled the pinstripe pants down and grabbed his bloody shaft again, guiding it into the Spy’s exposed asshole. The Sniper grunted heavily as he forced his head into the tight orifice, the blood barely assisted, but enough so that the persistent Oz’ managed to insert himself with a gruff groan. Spy bit hard on the rolled up leather stuffed in his mouth, turning his head , he managed to force it out.  
“Help!” He howled, “Anybody! Please!”

“Wouldn’t shout that, I ‘aint in the mood for sharin’” Sniper grunted through gritted teeth, “Yer’ in my base, remember?” He rocked his hips harder and faster, balls smacking against Spy’s tail with each hard thrust that gradually became easier . Blood oozed out of his rectum and dribbled down the BLU’s back each time Sniper forced himself further. Every vigorous push made the Spy splutter and grunt in discomfort as the Sniper dug his sharp nails deeply into his captives skin. He leaned over as far as he could, arching his back and clenching his teeth before a euphoric jolt shot up his spine and he came with a loud, pleasured moan, pulling out mid-ejaculation and letting his cock squirt onto the Spy’s already blood and cum filled asshole. Dropping the exhausted body like a used condom, the Sniper straightened his back and kicked off his trousers, pausing to admire his handiwork for a moment before swiftly stepping over the Spy and sitting down on his chest - which earned a winded huff from the seat in question, “S’been a while.” The Sniper admitted with a blissful breath, glancing down at the Spy when he didn’t get an answer. He was a mess, even with his mask on you could see his face was bright red, he was soaked in tears and vomit and his dull eyes were almost rolling back. He’d lost a quite a bit of blood after all, and it was taking it’s toll.  
Disappointed by the lack of screaming, the Sniper shrugged and stood, allowing Spy a sharp breath that seemed to bring him out of his daze a little. Lying almost crucified on the hard ground, the Spy turned his head and silently watched as the Sniper ripped the Shiv from his arm, freeing it although the Spy was too weak to even lift his hand. 

“Kill me” He breathed, “I’m begging you.”

The Sniper looked over his shoulder at the Spy and smirked, licking his lips, “I ‘aint done.” 

Spy stared at the ceiling in defeat, barely noticing the Sniper crouching down by his arm and taking hold of his wounded wrist, a flash of light slid along the Tribalmans blade and caught the BLU’s attention just a second too late, with a dull thud the shiv bit into his arm at his elbow and the Sniper began to drag it back and forth like a saw before giving a disgruntled huff and yanking it out. Spy’s pupils narrowed and he took the biggest breath he could muster, screaming his way through the ideal, his only uninjured limb thrashing desperately like an animal being skinned alive as the Sniper carried on unphased. He slammed the blade down into his skin again, and again until he’d chipped away enough for the final swipe to sever the Spy’s arm from his body.  
“PLEASE STOP!” He wailed, “No more, PLEASE!”. The Sniper ignored him and stepped over his chest, grabbing the other arm in the same way and lifting the weapon, “MON DEU, STOP! His leg kicked into the ground as the Spy tried to push himself toward the door, rolling onto his stomach and hystericallty scraping his shoe across the floor, but he wasn’t getting anywhere. Mostly because the Sniper was sat on his back now and held the BLU’s head against the floor with one hand, the other started brutally hacking at the other arm, the now dulled blade struggled, but chopped at the limb with so much force that eventually, there was barely anything left of his joint but the skin desperately holding the arm on. A few more swift slices to the flesh and it separated, just like the other.

The twisted RED had barely noticed that the room had gone silent aside from the clatter of the Shiv as he tossed it aside. Standing, he kicked the Spy over onto his back, “Bloody Hell…” He said grittily, “Useless”. He moved away, giving the dismembered Spy one last shove with his foot. 

The blood-covered Sniper perched back on his crate for a while, a few hours at least, just watching the covered window in silence before looking back to the mostly limbless Spy. He hadn’t moved, hadn’t made a sound. It was apparent that the Spy had lost his battle, it didn’t mean the Sniper’s thrill hunt was over.

He approached the body, unbuttoning his shirt before lying on top of the body, gripping the slightly hardening cock. His tongue slid from his mouth, teasing the unresponsive BLU’s tip with his tongue before accepting his length into his mouth, he’d hoped the Spook would still be alive, but why waste the opportunity. Sniper began moving his head back and forth faster before he grabbed his dick and started to pump vigorously, using some of the still damp blood out of the pool that surrounded them to slick his movement, with a muffled groan the Sniper freed Spy’s saliva soaked cock and sat up, flexing his back and tilting back his head as he came, feeling the cool liquid splash up against his belly and dribble down his girth, 

“Mph…” he breathed when he was done, rubbing the back of his neck before he got up and looked back to the lifeless body. He turned to face it, putting his aviators back on and holding his hat against his chest with a cruel smirk,

“Thank’s mate.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, 
> 
> This was my second attempt at writing (the first being in progress, still.) Huge thanks to my buddy for proof reading it for me!
> 
> Critique is encouraged! I'd love to write more in the future,
> 
> I hope you enjoyed it ~


End file.
